Roads not Taken
by Madea's Rage
Summary: One-shots dedicated to SIH-verse CP, being AU of the original AU. How might things have been different had they gone this way instead?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: In talking with a friend, the fact that CP has been rather light on the ground in the main story was mentioned. Specificially, I believe the remark was something along the lines of 'Not enough ass-beatings lately.'**

** In order to assuage this person, I have undertaken to correct that by writing a number of one-shots that deal with alternate universe CP. This is meant to be a series of 'What if?' questions, so I'll explain any variances on SIH-verse canon in the A/N. Everything will flow in roughly chronological order.**

** As always, requests are welcomed. **

**Scenerio One: What if Alecto was (much, much) nicer person? [Chapter one of SIH-assume Alecto doesn't know which girls are Purebloods and which aren't.)**

Alecto knew the curly-haired little Firstie would be a problem. The girl had stood up to Lucius directly in the Hall, and now was packing as directed with an air of lion-ish assurance, unflinching in the presence of any number of strange adults and the abrupt disappearance of every familiar person except Snape.

Beside her, a less hearty specimen was crying, and as Alecto watched, began to sob, head back. Elves appeared to comfort her and the girl bawled harder. The noise set Alecto's teeth on edge. She didn't particularly like children, and she especially didn't like weepy, noisy children.

The one who'd questioned Malfoy stopped as well, put down the jumpers she'd been packing and put her arms round the other girl, sliding across the bed to reach her. The first one kept bawling, clinging to the little lion-girl as she yowled like a dying animal.

Alecto, realizing this wasn't about to just stop, sighed to herself and went to break it up. She marched down the aisles and approached the two, putting a hand on the shoulder of each.

'That's enough, now. You're a big girl, aren't you? Act like it.'

The weeper ignored her, clinging harder. The other one ignored her as well, patting the other's back. Alecto huffed. Steeling herself, she reached out and tugged them apart, careful not to clamp down. The cryer howled as though in pain, stopping only when Alecto cupped her chin.

'Enough. You were given orders and you need to fulfil them. Now pack your things, and no more of this crying. Do you understand?'

When the girl didn't answer, Alecto, at wits' end, spun her and gave her two sharp swats. Any Wizarding child was familiar with the idea that adults could, and would, reinforce their authority with a few swift smacks as needed, and the gesture got the girl moving again.

'You can't do that!'

The little lion-girl. She'd told Lucius she thought this would be a problem. 'Beg your pardon?'

'You can't hit us!'

'I didn't hit anyone. I exercised my prerogative to discipline a disobedient child. If you'd not like more of the same, I'd suggest you adjust that tone and commence packing.'

The lion-girl was not cowed. 'It isn't right, hitting a smaller person that way.'

The other girls were listening with ears pricked up, clearly thrilled and shocked in equal measure by this overt defiance. Alecto could sense immediate action was needed, so, cursing that this time had to be devoted to curtailing a pint-sized Spartacus, lashed out a hand, seizing the girl's wrist, and sat down on the bed, hauling the child toward her, and then over her knee.

Their was an audible gasp as the girl ended up across her knee. Alecto could feel the eyes on them, but ignored the on-lookers completely. 'Elves, keep the others packing whilst I deal with this.'

The girl, to her credit, wasn't squirming or pleading a bit. She was rigid across Alecto's lap, either shocked or angry. Alecto ignored that as well, opting to flip up the child's skirt and tug down her knickers as rapidly as possible.  
The room was absolutely still. Alecto jerked the little knickers to the girl's skinny knees and raised a hand, bring it down with a resounding smack on the girl's backside.

'You are a bad, disobedient little girl! Why are you being punished?'

'OW! I talked back!'

'Yes, you did. Bad girl! When you are given directions, you obey them!'

'OW! OW! Yes, Miss!'

Alecto pinned the girl's legs under one of her own and went to work, giving sharp, even slaps all the way up and down. The girl started to squirm, gasping and trying to kick. Her legs were locked, and all she could do was wriggle helplessly, gasping and sniffling.

'Please! Oww! Stop!'

'I'll stop when I think you've learnt your lesson, not a second before! The rest of you, keep working or you'll get all this as well!'

Alecto's hand was starting to smart, but not nearly as much, she warranted, as the girl's backside, which was rapidly reddening under her palm. She lifted her knee and delivered a dozen hard slaps to the child's sit spots, prompting the first sobs and a renewed struggle.

Alecto held her more tightly and went down the back of both thighs a handbreadth, making the slaps harder and not lighter. The girl cried steadily, writhing.

Alecto stopped. 'Elf, a hairbrush.'

An elf handed her one, grabbed from the closest bed. Alecto flipped it and gave another dozen, right where the girl sat down. She cried out and then, sobbing, stopped fighting at all.

Alecto sat down the brush. 'Now, get up and stand in the centre of the room. Hands on your head, girl! You'll pull those up when I've given you permission!'

The girl, knickers about her ankles, weepily complied, hands tangled in her hair. The others were moving at remarkable speed, trying to stare covertly at their disgraced classmate, curious. Mostly sympathetic too, Alecto guessed from their sad eyes and soft conversations.

Finally they'd finished, and Alecto gave the elves a nod. She marched over to the girl, tugging her knickers up as the girl squirmed and jiggled in place. Alecto grabbed one of her little wrists and turned round, prepared to forcibly escort the child to the Hall.

She smelt something coppery. Turning, she saw the thin stream of blood oozing from the child's nose and cursed to herself. 'Elf, a handkerchief.'

The girl pressed it to her nose without being prompted, pinching her nostrils shut. Alecto loosened her grip a bit.

'You'll go the Hall and apologise to the Dark Lord for being so naughty. If you fail to comply, or disrespect anyone else, I shall ask Mr. Goyle to repeat the punishment then and there, do you understand?'

The girl's eyes widened. 'Yes, Miss.'

'Good. Come along, now.'

Things were uneventful until they'd run into a small party of Death Eaters. One of them was Bellatrix, and she was also bleeding. 'What did you do to her, Alecto?'

Alecto slowed down. 'Answer Madam Lestrange, girl.'

'Smacked me.'

'Madam Lestrange.'

'Smacked me, Madam Lestrange.'

'Oh? Did the girl give you cheek?'

'She did.'

Beside her, her husband shook his head. 'How sad. I do hope you'll be a good little girl from now on.'

The girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes with her free hand, prompting concealed smiles from the Death Eaters at the sheer childishness of it. 'Yes, sir.'

'There's a love.' The swept ahead, Bellatrix holding her bleeding hand so it dripped onto the stones.

'Why is that lady bleeding, Miss?'

'She was serving the Dark Lord, that's all you need to know.'

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at the scene and made as though to inquire when a foul-smelling man bent and sniffed.

'Whose little girl is this? She smells familiar.'


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.**

**Since a guest reviewer asked, I decided to go ahead and post this installment out of order. This is not meant to follow the first installment-all of these are discrete universes, AU of the original AU.  
**

** I also decided to play with Hermione's reactions to things just to see how it might be different.  
**

**Enjoy :)  
**

Bellatrix latched onto the girl's wrist and hurried her along more quickly. She was quiet, seething with anger. The girl seemed to sense it, quietly following her mother, head down.

As soon as they were inside their temporary quarters, Bellatrix released her. The girl immediately backed away, eyes darting, breathing hard. Bellatrix marked it but charged forward.

'Well?'

'I, ah, I-'

'What did you do?'

'Please, I-'

Bellatrix's first impulse was to shake the girl until her teeth rattled. Trying to get out of the castle? Kicking that creepy little fellow that worked for Rodolphus? Not to mention a werewolf.

Hermione wrapped her arms about herself and hugged, rocking a little on her feet. Bellatrix's keenly-honed predator sense could feel her vulnerability. Her…fear. That wasn't right. Children were suppose to love their mothers, not fear them. Not so much they were making little sounds in their throats, as the girl was, and a hiccoughy noise like she was holding in sobs.

Bellatrix sat down and breathed. What would Daddy do? What would Cissy? Even Malfoy, she supposed, would be an adequate role model (solely for this purpose, and she'd kill anyone who dared imply that, but still).

'Come here, girl. No, closer. Closer. I shan't hurt you.'

The girl did it, sidling cautiously. Bellatrix forced herself to stay still and tried, after a moment, to smile encouragingly. Without much success, it must be said, because the girl went still, eyes wide.

'Girl, come here. Truly, I'm not going to eat you.'

The girl finally crept close enough for Bellatrix to take hold of her wrist, gently this time. 'What happened?'

Hermione was slowly relaxing a little, head coming back. When she spoke, her voice was more or less normal, even if a bit soft.

'We were coming to find your husband or yourself and Mr. Travers called Rinky. And I, ah, I…'

'Tried to run outside.'

'Mmm hmm.'

'Why?'

'I wanted to…they're worried about me, is all. I wanted to find them and tell them I'm all right.'

Bellatrix forced down the surge of rage. The muggles, the stupid child-stealing muggles. It always came back to them, didn't it? Even dead they were hurting the girl and the others as well.

'Why did you not ask an adult?'

'Because I have and no one ever answers me. They tell me 'we'll see'

and change the subject.'

The girl lifted her chin a little, and a tiny note of defiance crept in, as though daring her mother to contradict her. Bellatrix tipped her head back straight back, strangely pleased, nearly as pleased as she was annoyed and angry about what had happened.

'Then what?'

'Sorry?'

'What would you have done had you got out? Where would you have gone?'

Hermione's chin dropped. 'Oh.'

'I mean it, what was your plan?'

'I suppose…I thought if I could get off school grounds…'

'What?'

'I could find someone who'd help me. An adult. Usually adults will help children, won't they?'

Bellatrix patted the cushions next to her and Hermione sat, watching her closely. How did she deal with this? What could she possibly do or say?

'Some of them. But you know some adults hurt children, don't you?'

'A policeman-an auror?-came and talked to my class about it. He said not to get into cars with strange people or take sweeties. I wouldn't, though.'

Bellatrix raised a brow. 'But you'd let a strange person help you

find your muggles, girl?'

'Oh.'

'Oh.'

'I suppose…I mean…that wasn't very good thinking, was it?'

Bellatrix touched the girl's chin, vaguely aware she was supposed to do that for some reason. Hermione lifted her head, eyes big and soft and slightly damp.

'We might have lost you, girl. What would your aunt say?'

'I was going to write her a letter after.'

'A letter?'

'Telling her I'm sorry I went in the corridors without an adult. And thanking her for being so kind to me whilst I was here. She'd like that, wouldn't she?'

'She'd rather have you here with us.'

'I know. But she doesn't need me. No one here does. She has Draco and her husband.'

'Your father and I need you.'

Hermione shook her head instantly. 'You've the Dark Lord. I was an accident, anyway, wasn't I?'

Bellatrix felt a surprising sort of…feeling, at any rate, at the matter of fact way Hermione said it. 'Who's taught you that nonsense, then?' She'd carve out their liver, whoever it was.

'Your sister says no one knew you were going to have me, and that's why I was born in Azkaban.'

'That's true but we still want you.'

'Mum-the muggle one-said she knew she was going to have me from the first. Why didn't you?'

Bellatrix inhaled. 'I've done a good deal of Dark magic, girl. I wasn't having my cycle anymore. I didn't think I could have a baby.'

'You never felt me move? Mum-Mrs. Granger-she said I kicked sometimes.'

'I can't recall.'

'If you'd wanted me, you'd remember.'

Were all children this incorrigible? 'I was in Azkaban. I don't remember ten years of my life.'

'At all?'

'At all.'

'Because of Dementors.'

'That's right.'

Vexingly, the girl looked sad, all big eyes. 'I'm sorry.'

'So am I. I wish I could remember what it was like.'

'You do?'

'Yes.'

Bellatrix touched her face again. The girl seemed to like it, snuggled into her hand. She was giving a very strong sense of need, need and fear. She patted the child's hair and the girl snuggled closer.

'You don't remember when I was born?'

'No.'

'It must have been scary.'

'Probably.'

The girl sighed deeply. 'It's scary for them as well, though. Mum and Dad. It's not their fault the Order took me away from your sister and Draco's father.'

Bellatrix misliked all this talk of muggles, but she could hardly change the subject without it seeming suspicious to the girl, who had, she judged, an analytical, Slytherin turn of mind.

'Would they want you to do something that dangerous, girl? Or try to attack a werewolf?'

'Scabior is a werewolf?' The girl looked interested, eyes lighting up with a curiosity that was becoming very familiar. Also quite Slytherin, noted Bellatrix, nodding mental approval.

'No, Greyback's men are werewolves. You tried to kick one.'

'He wouldn't set me down.'

'And Scabior?'

'I wanted him to let me go, was all. I didn't hurt his feelings, you don't think?'

She looked very worried about it, and Bellatrix, in answer, slowly put an arm about the girl. The girl took it as an invitation, and then Bellatrix Lestrange, most feared Death Eater in Britain, was somehow holding a child she had apparently created but had no memory of, except the few days previous. There was something wet and hot on her neck. The girl was crying.

'Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to be so bad!'

'Well, you were.'

The girl cried harder. 'I hate being bad! I just wanted them to know I was all right! Mum and Dad will be so worried!'

Bellatrix folded her other arm across the girl's back. 'Don't get

sick, girl.'

The girl bawled into her shoulder, heedless of everything else. It was actually sort of oddly pleasant. Not the crying, but the holding, and the novel sensation of soothing another person.

Finally she'd cried herself out, and burrowed in Bellatrix's neck. 'Sorry.'

It wasn't bad, this touching thing. She smoothed the child's sweat-damp hair.

'What is your father going to say about this?'

'He won't like it.'

'I don't like it. Girl, some of those men are dangerous.'

'They follow the Dark Lord, don't they?'

Bellatrix kept smoothing her hair. 'Some of them. Some are them were just criminals. A person only gets sent to Azkaban if they commit a

violent crime.'

'I thought Death Eaters had to go to Azkaban.'

'They did as well' Bellatrix said quickly 'but people who weren't political prisoners got sent too, if they hurt people.'

'Did they hurt children?'

'Some of them did.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'Why does your husband want them to work for him, then?'

'Because there's a place for everyone in Britain now.'

'Like a second chance?'

'Something like that.'

Hermione nibbled her lip, eyes down. 'There's a rule at my house that I can't go outside with an adult, or telling where I'm going. Is that a rule here as well?'

'It is.' Bellatrix hadn't thought as far as rules, precisely, but she could hardly be more lenient than filthy muggles when it came to what the girl was allowed to do.

'And I wasn't very nice to that werewolf. Or Scabior.'

'No.'

'It was pretty naughty, I suppose. Scabior said it was.'

'Did he?'

Hermione nodded, still looking down. 'He said he didn't like how I was behaving, and that you would be sad to know I was being rude to him. Are you?'

Sad? No, not really. But again, clearly there were expectations here. Bellatrix made herself look portentous and nod. The girl curled up into herself a little.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be bad.' Her voice was wavering uncertainly, and she finally looked at Bellatrix, forlorn and sniffling.

'This isn't the end of the world. You made a bad plan and kicked someone in the shin once or twice.'

'It was still bad.'

'It was.'

Bellatrix realized, at this point, that she was supposed to do something else. 'What shall we do about it, then?'

'I don't know. Do I need to go to my room?'

'For what?'

'I did something bad.'

'We've established that.'

Hermione blinked. 'Don't wizards do that?'

'Do what?'

'At home, when I'm naughty I have to go sit in my room. Or did-it's been a while.'

'How long?'

Hermione frowned, clearly reckoning. 'Six…six years?'

'Six **years**?'

'I like being good.'

Bellatrix was not wholly sure what to say to that. 'I suppose you ought to be smacked. Do muggles do that?'

'Some do. My parents didn't. My muggle parents.'

'Why not?'

'They thought it was unproductive.'

Bellatrix snorted. 'Unproductive?'

'They said it would make me afraid, instead of wanting to behave because it's the right thing to do.'

Bellatrix thought that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard.

'What do you think?'

'I'd rather not.'

'What sort of response is that, girl?' Bellatrix bit her tongue again

to keep from laughing at how vexed the girl looked, wrinkling her nose in consternation. It was almost a shame that Rodolphus couldn't be here to see this playing out. Hermione huffed and then surprised her mother by smiling a little.

'That was a bit silly.'

'A bit?'

'Very.'

'Quite. Take off your shoes and robes and then come to my other side.'

Hermione fidgeted with the sleeve of her robes. 'Do we really have to?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'You were naughty.'

'But I promise not to do it again.'

'Girl' said Bellatrix, and gave her a hard, probing look that she hoped promised all manner of unspecified evils should she not comply immediately. The girl gnawed her lip and slowly unclasped her robes, stepped out of her shoes. This parenting thing, Bellatrix thought, was a good deal harder than Daddy had made it seem. She kept up her mother-glare as her daughter shuffled to her side, eyes wide.

She took the little wrist in her hand and gently tugged, bringing the girl forward so her belly was pressed into Bellatrix's knees. 'You normally don't fuss about things.'

'I know' said the girl from down by her ankle, sounding watery 'but it's not…I'm…what do I do?'

'Do?'

'I don't know you, I don't know the rules, and everything I do know is wrong. It's terrible.'

Bellatrix stiffly patted her back. 'Suppose it is, at that.'

'I thought if I could…I just wanted to know.'

Bellatrix kept patting. 'You know better than to do what you did. Would your muggles have tolerated it?'

'N-no.'

'Then they'd want to make sure you didn't do it again.'

'I suppose so. Does it have to be like this?'

'We're witches, girl. This is how our people deal with things.'

'Always?'

'Not always, but in cases like this.'

'Does it happen to everyone?'

'To children.'

'Did it happen to you?'

'Yes.'

'Your mother?'

'My father.'

'What was his name?'

'No, you don't. Don't think I don't know what you're up to.'

Hermione sighed. 'It was worth a try.'

'Indeed.'

Bellatrix took the girl's skirt up. Hermione gasped, dropping her

head. 'Can't we leave that down?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

Bellatrix brought her hand down hard on the girl's exposed thigh, prompting a squeal of surprised pain. 'Enough.'

The girl nodded, sniffling, and dropped her head. Bellatrix took her waistband and guided down her knickers (which had, bizarrely, little rabbits dancing on them) to her knees. The girl was sniffling harder, wriggling.

Bellatrix looked at the place she'd swatted. It was quite pink, very dark against the girl's pale skin. Still, she didn't think she'd hurt her. She almost wished Rodolphus was here to do this; he had a grasp of these things that she simply lacked.

Well, waiting wouldn't fix matters, and the girl was apt to start squalling from sheer nerves. Bellatrix tugged her tighter against her ribs, holding her so she couldn't fall. She felt like she was supposed to say something, scold or lecture, but it seemed rather pointless.

The girl knew what she'd done and now she was paying for it, was all.

The first slap was loud. Hermione, who knew what to expect, yelped, feet coming up a little. Bellatrix laid down a few more, curious and worried about being either too soft or too hard.

It would have been easier, she reflected, had her daughter been acting more like her usual self. There was something about Hermione's waffling and pleading that was very…it made her feel…Bellatrix grunted to herself and kept smacking. Perhaps this sentimentality was just indigestion or something.

'OWW! STOP!'

She ignored it. She remembered shrieking like a banshee when Daddy punished her, so probably this was normal. And proof the girl was hers, just as Jugson had teased. The girl squirmed, gasping and wriggling as her mother smacked her.

'OWW! NO PLEASE THAT'S ENOUGH!'

Bellatrix ignored that, too. She could see colour coming to the girl's skin but she wasn't really acting distressed, physically of all people knew what that looked like. She held her girl tighter and kept on, determined to make sure this didn't happen again.

Hermione was kicking hard, head down as she cried out, and then cried. It was oddly comforting-the girl was acting childish, and that was all right. Her maturity could be a bit, well, eerie from time to time.

'IT HURTS! PLEASE STOP IT HURTS!'

Bellatrix stopped for a second. The girl's chest was heaving against her legs and she was sobbing hard, feet kicking. 'Elf! Fetch my hairbrush.'

'NO NO NO! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE DON'T!'

'Almost done, girl.'

'IT HURTS IT DOES NO MORE PLEASE NOT THE BRUSH!'

Bellatrix took the brush from the elf that had appeared and pressed the girl down. One hand stole back and Bellatrix tapped the girl with the brush.

'Move it.'

'Please don't!'

'Girl, right now.'

Hermione sobbed but inched her hand out of the way. Bellatrix held her more tightly and made herself keep going.

The first swat from the hairbrush made the girl cry out, a loud high wail. She kicked violently, trying to move off her mother's lap. Bellatrix pretended not to notice. Twelve, she thought, eleven more and this is over.

'MOTHER! OWWW! OW, NO, NO! HURTS! NO!'

It was harder than she might have thought. Bellatrix liked pain, but she didn't like this. The child was sobbing pitifully, wailing with every smack of the brush, legs working, head down as she bawled.

The last two were hardest. The girl had stopped kicking at ten, and Bellatrix made the last couple light and quick. Relieved, she almost threw down the brush, which the elf took at once. The girl was still sobbing like her heart was breaking, crying pitifully into her arm.

'Sorry! Sorry! I'll be good.'

'I know.' Bellatrix petted between the girl's shoulder blades. Hermione had called "Mother". It felt funny, not quite right, but also…nice? Sort of cosy, she supposed. Shame it had to be like this.

'Hurts, ouch!'

'I know. Can you…do you want to stand up?'

Hermione nodded, still crying. Bellatrix held her about the middle as she rose, hands flying back to rub the sting away. She hopped a bit in place, sobbing with huge gulping breaths.

'Hurts! Hurts!' Then, improbably, she was somehow in Bellatrix's lap and Bellatrix had put her arms round her.

'Hush, girl. It's done now.'

'Sorry! I was so bad!'

'It's taken care of.'

'I hate being bad!'

'You've been punished. Means it's done with, girl. Breath, calm down.'

Hermione nuzzled closer, crying more softly. 'Didn't like it.'

'I should hope not.'

Bellatrix stroked her hair, thinking that might calm her. It seemed to help, a least a little. Hermione's crying was slowly tapering off, but she made no move to relinquish her hold on Bellatrix's neck.

'Girl?'

'Mmm?'

'Cygnus. My father was Cygnus Black. He was a very good father to me.'

Hermione nodded, still sniffling off and on. 'Do you miss him?'

'Every day.'

'I miss my muggles, too.'

Bellatrix made herself nod. 'Understandable, I suppose.'

'What was he like?'

'Daddy? He was very kind, and very clever. He was…he loved us.'

'Your mother as well?'

'No.'

Hermione slowly raised her head. 'It hurts.' It wasn't a question.

'Not anymore.'

'I'm sorry it's…I'm sorry.'

'It's nothing you did.'

The girl pressed her head to Bellatrix's chest. 'There's a lot of terrible things in the world, aren't there?'

'Loads. But none of them will hurt you whilst we're here.'

'Are my muggles dead?' She sounded very calm, almost casual, but Bellatrix could feel her heart beating harder. She squeezed experimentally, hoping this was the right thing to do.

'Girl, if I knew I would tell you.'

'They didn't…theydidntleavemedidthey?'

'No, of course not. They love you.'

'They why haven't they written if they're alive?'

'Don't know, girl.'

Hermione sighed, snuggling closer. 'If you find something out, do you promise to tell me?'

'I promise…I promise to make sure you know what you need to know.'

'What does that mean?'

'That I won't have you upset.'

'I'm not a baby.' She actually managed to sound both slightly stroppy and sleepy, which negated what she'd just said slightly. Bellatrix gave her a stern look and a pat on the bum as a reminder.

'I mean, it won't upset me.'

'Trust me about this.'

Hermione nodded reluctantly. 'But if they are, you'll tell me?'

'If I find anything out about it, I will.'

'Promise?' Hermione put her head up and Bellatrix pushed it back down.

She obeyed the unspoken order and closed her eyes.

'Promise.'

The door opened. Rodolphus came inside and started to speak before he took in the scene. He closed his mouth, eyes widening, and sat carefully next to the ladies. 'Darling?'

'Shhh, Rodolphus.'

He nodded, and began to stroke Hermione's back gently, almost absently. He raised a brow and Bellatrix nodded once; she'd explain later. The girl was starting to doze a little, breathing deeply.

'H'lo.'

'Go to sleep, darling. That's the girl, just right to sleep.'

She nodded, making small sleepy grumbles. Rodolphus waited until she was sleeping, limp and warm, before he carefully lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom. Bellatrix tugged back the covers and they put her under, transfiguring her clothing. Hermione rolled on her side and sighed softly. Bellatrix swished her wand at a pillow and transfigured that as well, into some sort of little plush creature. It

was sort of a cross between a kneazle and a bear; she wasn't concentrating as well as she could have.

Back on the divan, the two adult Lestranges looked at one another.

'I hear there was a problem?'

Bellatrix explained. Rodolphus nodded slowly. 'It was inevitable, I daresay.'

'Yes. She did very well, all things considered.'

'Was it difficult?'

'Yes.' She wasn't sure she could put how it felt into words. 'It hurt her, Rodolphus.'

'You knew it would.'

She nodded. 'It was the right thing to do.'

'I think so. And she was certainly affectionate with you.'

'Called me "Mother", too.'

'Did she?'

Bellatrix nodded and then Silenced the area they were in. 'She's

guessed about the muggles.'

'Has she?'

'We need a story.'

'Perhaps, if we simply don't mention them…'

'No. She needs to know they're dead.'

He steepled his fingers. 'I'll see what I can do.'

'Thank you.'

The elf popped in, bowing and crying. 'Miss?'

'Idiot! She nearly ran off because you weren't watching her!'

'Rinky is sorry! Master Travers called Rinky!'

'Go to her, and God help you if you aren't there the second that child wakes up!'

Bellatrix stood, taking her wand. 'Will you stay, Rodolphus?'

'Of course. Where are you going?'

'To maul Travers.'

'Ah' he said, and settled back with a magazine, as she closed the door to go hex Metellus.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.**_  
_

**Like I've said, these are out of order. This one takes place fairly early on things, where Lucius imparts some wisdom to Hermione in chapter two of SIH. The part in italics is taken directly from there.**

_'You're Draco's father?'_

_'I am. He's told me what a very clever little girl you are. So I expect when I tell you not to do a thing that like again, you'll understand me, hmm?'_

_'Just because someone is a bully and makes everyone afraid of them-'_

_'Is a good sign you ought to be as well. The Dark Lord might punish you if this stubbornness keeps up.'_

_'He's not lord of anything, not really.'_

_'On account of your age, I shall forget you said that, but just this once.'_

_'Are you scared of him, too?'_

Lucius Malfoy stopped, taken aback by her daring. The girl was looking up at him fearlessly, eyes bright. She was, he thought, quite a pretty little girl for all she was a half-breed. Well, no matter-whomever her father, he'd find a way to get that record

expunged soon enough. Probably find some dead Pureblood woman and claim the girl was the bastard of them both, or something like that.

'That is quite enough. Surely you know better than to speak to an adult that way?'

'I don't have to be polite to adults who try to make me do things that are dangerous.'

'I am not making you do anything dangerous. You are going to rest for a while in a classroom, and then we'll set about contacting your father and mother.'

The girl stopped. 'My parents live at 654 Bluebell Lane, Darlington.'

'Of course they do. Now would they want a nice little girl like yourself behaving so disrespectfully?'

'It's not disrespectful to ask questions.'

'Perhaps muggles do things differently.' Lucius stopped and squatted down so he was eye-level with the girl. 'Amongst wizards and witches, when a little girl is told to do something, she is expected to do it, without complaining or arguing. Do you understand?'

She nodded, clearly disliking having him this close. 'I still don't understand what this is about.'

'Your father will explain everything when he's found.'

'Why aren't the other muggleborns coming with me?'

'There's been a complication.'

'What sort of complication?'

'The sort you needn't worry about. Come along, my dear.'

He took her hand again and she scowled up and tried to move her arm to free it. Lucius clamped down, giving her the look that typically made Draco get very still and very quiet.

'I suggest you reconsider your attitude this moment. Because your father will be most unhappy if I need to give him a bad report, won't he?'

'Why can't we Owl him right now?'

Lucius finally lost patience. He inhaled deeply and stood up, taking the girl under the arms to swing her up onto his hip. She went rigid, gasping with surprise.

'Set me down!'

'If you can't walk like a big girl, then I'll carry you. Now, if you stay still, I'll be sure to mention your behaviour improved markedly.'

She said nothing until they were in the room he'd selected, a disused classroom he had sometimes studied in as a boy. It was quiet, remote from anything else, but comfortable and safe. He'd have the elves transfigure her something to rest in should it look as though she'd be here more than an hour or two.

As soon as he'd set her down, she tried to bolt, racing toward the door, hair flying. Lucius was well over a foot taller, and knew where she was going, whilst she did not. He stopped before she'd gone an arm's length, lifting her up and off her feet to scowl fiercely at her.

She was uncowed, kicking and protesting. Lucius had a moment of empathy for the poor child; she was muggle-raised, terrified and naturally upset at her rough treatment at Alecto's hands. She would see soon enough, no doubt, about how things were.

Ideally, Lucius found himself musing, she would be Goyle's or Crabbe's, someone who had and liked children, who'd know how to fix this problem with authority.

Still, soonest begun, as Cissy was prone to say. Lucius set the girl down and sat on the closest desk. Then he reached over and took her chin in his hand, raising it ever so slightly to emphasis how much bigger than her he was.

'I am very disappointed in how you are choosing to act. I understand that you are afraid and unhappy, but the adults are making the best choices they can for you with very limited information. You are not making things any easier by fighting all of us. Do you see?'

The girl nodded. 'I didn't realise.'

'I know that. But I am telling you right now so you are very, very clear on how things are. The Dark Lord was deeply hurt by your naughtiness earlier, and it makes me terribly sad that I shall have to tell your father that you continued to be difficult after the Dark Lord scolded you. What do we need to do about that?'

'I'll apologise.'

'Yes, you will. And I expect your father will want to discuss the issue with you as well. For right now, though, I intend to correct you myself so you remember to be a good girl until he comes to find you. Come here, please.'

The girl took a step back, nervously looking about. 'What are you going to do?'

'Smack you. Come here and you may pull down your own knickers. One.'

To his surprise, she came closer. 'My parents don't believe in smacking.'

'Wizarding people do. Your behaviour was awfully naughty, don't you think? We need to be sure you understand that a given action has consequences. Two.'

'What happens if you get to three?'

'Then I'll send an elf for a hairbrush, and smack you that much harder and longer. Come here, please.'

She edged forward, and he smiled encouragingly. 'That's a girl. Just a smacking and then we'll be all done. I think your father would be very proud of how brave and cooperative you're being.'

'Do you have to pull down my knickers?'

'When a person gets smacked, it's on the bare bottom.'

She squirmed. 'Isn't that bad, though? My mother always says that if someone touches me like that, I need to tell an adult.'

'She didn't mean simply to discipline you, child. She meant for-something you'll understand when you're older. Would it comfort you to have an elf here?'

'Elf?'

'That's right. Elf, come here.'

An elf appeared, bowing. 'Master Malfoy?'

'Stand over there and do not interfere.'

The girl was staring frankly at the elf. 'What are you, sir?'

'Rinky is a house elf, Miss.'

'Are there house elves everywhere?'

Lucius suspected this was more a stalling tactic than actual curiosity, or at least an equal mixture of both. He stifled a smile and gestured the girl over.

'Hermione, it's time for your smacking now.'

He thought using her given name might encourage her to mind him more willingly. She nodded glumly but came to his side. His right side, which obliged him to gently move her to the left, though, of course, she didn't know which hand he preferred. She was quiet but not visibly panicking.

'Have you never been smacked before?'

'Never ever.'

Now he did smile. 'It won't be pleasant, but I think perhaps you'll feel better after. And I can tell your father how good a girl you were about it, can't I?'

She nodded and awkwardly leant over his lap. 'Like this?'

'Just so' he said, although in truth he had to adjust her. Still, she was dealing with this splendidly, and he suspected a bit of positive reinforcement wouldn't go amiss. She dangled over his lap, seemingly more curious than afraid.

He flipped the little skirt up, taking care not to expose too much.

She stiffened a little when she felt his hands go to her waistband.

'Now, Hermione' he said, using her given name since it seemed to work 'these are going to come down. If I allow you to do it, will you promise me to behave whilst you're being smacked?'

'Behave how?'

He patted her back lightly. 'You may kick and make as much noise as you need, but you will not use bad language, try to stop the punishment or try to hit, bite or scratch me, is that clear?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Do you want to take them down yourself?'

'Yes.' She reached back and tugged ineffectually. He helped her find the waistband and tugged with her to get them down to mid-thigh. She wriggled a bit, obviously uncomfortable.

Prolonging this wouldn't help matters. He pinned her wrist (the other was trapped between their bodies) and raised a hand, bringing it down hard onto her backside.

Lucius had heard it said that muggles had higher pain tolerance. It didn't surprise him very much, then, when she didn't react right away.

She gasped and stiffened at the first handful of slaps, and then began, very slowly, to show signs of discomfort. Her hand fisted and opened again, her feet began moving and she started to sniffle a little.

'Ouch.' She sounded more surprised than upset. Lucius kept up, holding her a bit more tightly when she inevitably started to struggle a bit. 'That hurts!'

'It is meant to.'

'Ow! OW! Stop!'

'Not until you've been punished. Head down, now.' He lightly nudged her head with the flat of his arm and she complied, sniffling a little more.

Lucius deliberately started slapping harder, putting patches of red on the pink he'd made sure to cultivate first. He wanted her sore and sorry, not bruised and afraid. And it wouldn't do, really, for it to get round that he'd brutalised some other man's child.

A sound smacking was one thing, but marks were another, his threat to use a (carefully charmed and even more carefully wielded) brush if she declined to obey him properly notwithstanding.

'OW! OUCH!'

She was kicking in earnest now, and starting to sob. Good, good. He meant to be sure she'd be compliant during what was clearly going to be a difficult, ugly scene when her true father-whomever he was-would come to claim her. Things, he reflected, have hit a bad turn when being fathered by Galvin Goyle or Vincent Crabbe Sr was the best of all possible outcomes. If she was Rowle's, or worse, Mcnair's, things would be go a great deal worse for her unless she learnt to hold her tongue.

The girl finally started to really cry, and Lucius decided she'd had almost enough. He slowed the swats, and then, steeling himself, gave her a dozen down the backs of each thigh, and six each to her sit-spots. She wailed, writhing, and then went limp.

'Ow ow ow! No more!'

'That will depend on you. Are you willing to be a good girl, and do what's asked of you?'

'Yes!'

'Will you obey your elders, especially your father and mother?'

'Yes, I promise!'

'Then I believe we are done. Are you ready to get up, or would you like to cry a bit first?'

She nodded and cried hard another minute or so. Despite what he knew others said of him, Lucius was not without a heart. The child was in pain and confused, and had just got the smacking of her life-literally, thanks to those idiot muggles.

She reached back, sniffling. 'Can we pull them up now?'

'Of course we might. Lift up and-there! That's loads better, isn't it?'

'Mmm hmm. Is it all right if I stand up?'

Lucius set her on her feet and held out his arms. She approached slowly, as if he were dangerous. As soon as she was close enough, he swept her into an embrace, settling her on his knee so she could cry it out on his shoulder, or at least get a little much-needed cuddling. She sat uncomfortably at first but began to relax very slowly.

'Sorry.'

'I know. You were a very big, brave girl about taking your punishment, and now we've taken care of things, haven't we?'

She nodded. 'That hurt a lot!'

'I'm sure it did, but do you know now to avoid behaving that way?'

'Yes!'

'Good. That's a good girl. Elf, transfigure that table into a bed, Miss is going to rest a bit.'

She started to protest and Lucius shook his head. 'You've been crying and you need to recover your strength. Let's drink some cold water and put you down for a nice long rest, hmm?'

An elf did as he'd ordered whilst the one who'd spoken to them brought a large goblet of cold water. The girl drank half and handed it back.

'Can the elf stay with me?'

'Of course it may. Can is possibility, may is permission, all right?'

'May' she said obediently, and settled into the bed, which was small but plush. Lucius covered her with the blanket the elf had also made and then carefully warded the room to keep her inside.

'I will see you soon, Hermione.'

'Yes, sir.'

He went back to the Hall and prepared for the battle that was preparing to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.**

**This is meant to take place right after the Battle of Hogwarts. What if Goyle, rather than Scabior, had been sent to find Hermione and bring her back?  
**

Galvin Goyle walked as quickly as he could, determined to bring the little chit back. He was fairly sure she wasn't his, but she could be, and even if she wasn't, Galvin liked children. He didn't want her hurt or frightened by things she had no doubt encountered.

In the corridors, the wolves were divvying up what they'd killed. Some of them had knives, and they were butchering the dead, laughing and talking. Goyle growled to himself.

'Do that elsewhere. We've a little girl on the loose.'

'Brown hair, about yea high?'

'That's her.'

'I left her on the third floor in a niche.'

Galvin thanked him and left. He thought he had an idea where, and hopefully she was too afraid to think to hide or something. He found the place but it was empty. Cursing, he turned to go back to the classroom Malfoy'd left her in, hoping she might have tried to go back there.

An elf appeared, sobbing hysterically. 'Miss!'

'What about Miss?'

'On the roof!'

'WHAT? YOU LET A CHILD CRAWL ONTO THE ROOF WITH DEMENTORS LURKING? ARE YOU AN IDIOT? TAKE ME THERE RIGHT NOW, YOU GREAT STUPID LUMP!'

The elf turned and took off, Galvin following, feet pounding. He let the thing lead him to a small balcony overlooking a broad expanse of roof, thankfully not too steep.

She was there, making her way fearlessly toward the edge on her belly. She was cautiously scanning the horizon, and when she heard his approach she quickly rolled behind a chimney, curling up to hide herself from sight. With that sort of sand, he thought, feeling a tad impressed despite himself, she really could be his.

'OI! LITTLE GIRL! THE DEVIL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE AT, THEN?'

She didn't answer, but flattened herself and kept crawling. He cursed out loud and jumped over the balcony.

'IF I HAVE TO COME GET YOU, YOU'LL BE DAMNED SORRY! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!'

She didn't. Instead, she started toward the edge, much more quickly than before.

Galvin forced himself to stop shouting and talk. His own boys were basically used to it, but the girl mightn't understand it was simply his way with things. He held out his hands so as to appear non-threatening.

'Stay still, little girl. It's dangerous up here.'

She didn't stop. 'No! I don't know any of you, and that bad man had a knife!'

'What bad man?'

'His name was Lem, and he cut Dawlish the auror!'

She was almost at the edge, creeping toward the ledge. Galvin swore and dove for her ankle. She dodged him and fearlessly kept crawling.

Galvin finally succeeded in grabbing her ankle and clasped down, determined to bring her back without hurting her.

She rolled, kicking hard. Galvin pulled her away from the ledge, hoping he wasn't going to scrape her skin or give her a splinter.

'Elf, help me!'

An elf appeared and the girl stopped struggling. It grabbed her wrists carefully. 'Master Goyle?'

'Help me get her inside.'

Once they were safely inside Hogwarts, Galvin forced himself to breath deeply as the elf checked the girl over for cuts and bruises, healing the red marks on her back from being dragged. He kept one of his massive hand locked round the girl's thin wrist, and he looked her right in the eye as the elf healed her, making that sort of shushing noise as it did.

'Well?'

Galvin put his hands to her shoulders and gave her something that wasn't precisely a shake. She blinked, looking uneasy for the first time. He didn't release her but instead pulled her a bit closer.

'Little girl, I've asked you a question.'

She nodded, biting her lip. 'Yes, sir.'

'Why did you do that?'

'Wanted the aurors to see me. If they saw me, they could come and get me.'

Galvin nodded. 'Is that safe, little girl?'

'No, sir.'

'Where did Mr. Malfoy leave you?'

'The classroom.'

'Do you disobey adults when they tell you where to be?'

'No, sir.'

'Do you go any place dangerous without an adult?'

'No, sir.'

'Do you ignore an adult when they tell you to stop?'

'No, sir.'

'Do you kick other people?'

'No, sir. I didn't hurt you?' She looked worriedly at him, and Galvin had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling. The girl weighed as much as a kneazle, and was practically as small. Her little kicks had felt like pokes, but she didn't need to know that this moment.

'No, you didn't. But you might have.'

She looked genuinely sorry. 'I didn't want to hurt you.'

'You knew better, isn't it?'

She nodded, eyes cast down. Part of Galvin wanted to shake her and shout; what she'd done was terribly dangerous, ill-advised, foolish.

Another part wanted to give her a big hug and take her on his lap to cuddle. She seemed like a sweet little thing, and like she'd just had a lapse in judgment. Galvin had raised his boys more or less alone, so childish lapses in judgment were an area he knew loads about.

He pressed his palm lightly to her cheek. 'Look at me, chuck.'

She did. There were big tears in her eyes, and a few dripping down her cheeks. He wiped them away with the ball of his thumb. Kids were at the hardest to deal with when they'd done something wrong and realized it too late.

'You could have fallen. What would've happened then?'

'I'd have d-died.'

'That's right.'

Abruptly, he had an armful of little girl. 'I want to go home! I want my Mummy!'

He patted her back. 'Course you do, chuck. It's awful scary, isn't it, being with people you don't know?'

She nodded, sobbing. 'Mmm hmm!'

'And Alecto hit you.'

'She did! And then I bit her!'

'I know you did. You were right to. Someone hits you, you hit them back.'

'It's not n-n-nice to hit!'

'No, but it's different if she's hit you first. Did she hit you first?'

'Yes.'

'All right, then. What about this other?'

'What about it?' She put her arms round his neck and snuggled closer, overcome with the need for security and comfort from an adult, even one she barely knew. He settled her on his knee and just sat still, letting her burrow into his chest a bit.

'Who are you? Sir?'

'Galvin Goyle.'

'Your son is Gregory?'

'That's right.'

She closed her eyes. 'Are those things coming back?'

'Dementors, you mean? Don't know. Hope not.'

'Why are they so terrible?'

'It's their job to be. They guard Azkaban.'

'Azkaban?'

'The prison.'

She frowned, chewing her lip. 'Oh. Why were they here, then?'

'It's hard to explain.'

'Is it politics?'

'Yes, that's right.'

She closed her eyes again. 'Why did that lady hurt the woman on the ground?'

'Lady?'

'She's small and loud, and the woman was screaming.'

'Don't know, chuck' he said, though of course he did. 'Didn't someone tell you to stay upstairs?'

'One of those smelly men did. He said he'd smack me if I didn't.'

'You didn't, though.'

'I couldn't stay.'

'Why's that?'

'Those things had come, and they were eating the person on the ground. I could hear them.' She shivered and Galvin held her a bit tighter against him, humming tunelessly to soothe her fear.

'Why were they eating those people, Mr. Goyle?'

'They're werewolves, lovie. That's what werewolves do.'

'All of them?'

'Not all, but Greyback's…you stay away from him.'

'What about the man who lifted me up? He didn't try to hurt me.'

'Some of them are nice enough, to be sure. He wanted to protect you.'

'Why?'

'You're a little girl. Everyone wants you to be safe.'

The child nodded against his chest. 'It wasn't very safe, going on the roof.'

'No.'

'I'm sorry.'

He nodded, resting his head on top of hers. She was a brave, clever little chit, and he liked her. He half-hoped she was his; he wanted her raised by someone who liked kids and wouldn't try to crush her spirit. Perhaps, if her father was someone who didn't want a child-or a daughter-he'd offer to take her. Greg would like having a sister, and Tiggy would make sure she knew what she needed to be a good wife

someday. Maybe to Vince's little boy, or one of Selwyn's many nephews

abroad.

'Well, chuck, I think that's something we should talk about.'

'Talk about what?'

'What happens to naughty little girls?'

She looked up at him, all wide eyes. 'How do you mean?'

'I think someone needs a smacking. Do you?'

The girl shook her head immediately. 'My parents don't believe in corporal punishment. They say it's unproductive.'

Galvin reached up slowly to stroke her hair. 'You mean to tell me you've never once had a hiding?'

'Never ever' she said solemnly enough he suspected it could actually be true. He kept stroking her hair, letting her get used to the idea.

'Then what shall we do, lovie?'

'I could apologise.'

'Just did.'

'To the others, I mean.'

'Might be nice, but that's not really a punishment, chuck. What else?'

'No pudding for a week?'

'Could, but a week is a terrible long time. Smacking'd be quicker.'

'I don't want to be smacked, though.'

He snorted. 'If you did, darlin', it wouldn't be much good as a punishment. You've not got a room I can send you to. You've not got any privileges I can remove and keep them off, because that's for your Da to decide.'

'What about early bedtime?'

'I don't get to make your bedtime, though. That's for your folks to do. See why we're in a bad place with this?'

She nodded, and pressed against him a second before saying, quite bravely 'Could we go someplace private to do it?'

Galvin answered her by setting her to her feet. She slipped her hand into his as called the elf back. 'Where are the closest teacher's quarters?'

The elf led them. Galvin tugged the girl into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. 'Come here, lovie.'

She did it, slowly and shyly. 'It is going to hurt?'

'It is.'

'A lot? It can't be too bad, can it?'

Galvin said nothing as she talked herself in coming to his side. He patted her back and then tugged her over his knee. She wriggled, whimpering a little as he tugged her skirt up, and took her knickers to her knees.

'Don't!'

'Don't what?'

'Please don't take them down.'

'I smack naughty backsides, not knickers. Your knickers haven't done anything wrong.'

'I don't like this. Do we have to?'

'We do. You were bad, remember?'

'Well, yes, but…I don't like it.'

Galvin was fighting not to smile. 'I know. Ready?'

'No. But maybe you should start anyway.'

'Good girl.'

Galvin was strong, and his hands were very large. When he brought his hand down, it more than covered the girl's small bottom. She yelped, jumping with shock, but seemed to be trying to lie still.

'OW!'

He ignored it, and started a regular rhythm of slaps, alternating sides so no one part got too much. He swatted the backs of both thighs and then downward, knowing that it was a very effective way to drive the lesson home.

The girl sobbed, squirming steadily. It was comforting to Galvin; she was a smart child, but a child, and she was reacting normally. Her legs were kicking vigorously, and she finally cried out and sent a hand back to protect her bottom.

Galvin stopped. 'Move your hand, Hermione.'

'No, hurts! Ow!'

'Hermione, right now.'

She sobbed harder but managed to pull her hand away with what must have been terrible effort. He immediately pinned it to the small of her back and started paddling her harder, determined not to need to repeat this lesson, and spare the girl further pain should she not be his, after all.

'OH OW! PLEASE NO MORE!'

Galvin ignored it, cocking his knee to expose her sit spots. He forced himself to continue, as much as he didn't want to-because it was for her, much as she might not understand that at the moment.

'OWWWWWW OWWWWW! NO NO NO HURTS PLEASE!'

She kicked, sobbing frantically, desperate for the agony to end. Galvin held her still and kept going, knowing she would tell him when she'd had enough. The poor little thing was absolutely howling, kicking and writhing.

'NO NO NO OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!'

Galvin got most of the way down her thigh before she had finally had enough. She went still, wailing, and he stopped at once, reaching up to release her hand before he stood her up.

She bawled, rubbing with both hands, head down. Galvin hugged her, settling back so he could hold her better. She flung her arms about his neck and sobbed miserably.

'Sorry sorry hurts! Ow!'

'I know, chuck, it does hurt. All right, all right.'

She didn't stop crying for a good ten minutes. Finally she'd quieted to sniffles and hiccoughs, burrowing against him.

'Tired?'

'Mmm mmm. Water?'

The elf got it at once. The girl drained the goblet and politely handed it back.

'Sorry I was naughty.'

'I know, lovie. It's all over now. You're a good girl again, and we can forget this, can't we?'

She nodded and clung tighter. Galvin, knowing precisely what this was about, put his arms round her and rocked, letting her feel safe and little and forgiven. The girl was crying again, but that wasn't unusual. She was tired and sore, and probably she needed a nice cry.

When she'd stopped, Galvin stood. 'Elf, help me get her into bed.'

The elf transfigured her clothing as Galvin spelled back the covers on the bed and settled her on her side. The girl mumbled a protest, and Galvin touched her cheek.

'Dreamless Sleep, elf.'

The girl took it without question, more awake than asleep. Immediately she went limp. Galvin tucked her in, and, after a pause, transfigured a knick-knack into a stuffed kneazle to cuddle if the girl woke up.

She wouldn't, but a little friend might help, anyhow.

Galvin wished he could help her with what was coming. He couldn't, though, unless she was his, and probably she wasn't. He closed the door and walked out, leaving the elf to mind the sleeping child.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.**

**Ask and ye shall receive...since a guest reviewer asked for Narcissa/Hermione here it is :)**

Narcissa closed the door behind herself and sighed silently. Hermione was sitting on the bed, eyes big, hands twisting in her lap. She bit her lip, nervously looking about, and said finally 'Aunt Cissy?'

'It's all right, sweetheart. Let's have a cuddle, shall we?'

Hermione climbed eagerly into her lap and nestled close, breathing deeply. Narcissa held her, rocking a bit, for some time, the sole sound their breathing. Finally, knowing she couldn't put this off forever, she said quietly 'Tell me what you understand, love.'

'Mother is upset with me.'

'Yes. That's right.'

'Is she very angry?'

'She's angry. I've told her I don't think you quite understood what you did wrong. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'Darling, what does the Dark Lord teach us?'

'A place for everyone from high to low.'

Narcissa hadn't expected that, and nodded a bit. 'Yes, sweet, that's true. But what does he say about unequal partnerships, do you know?'

'No.'

'He tells us that it's all right for us to help people below ourselves, but we shouldn't socialise with them. Just like how elves can't visit witches, remember?'

'Yes, but Alise isn't below me. She's a year ahead of me.'

'That's a different sort of below, sweetheart. Alise isn't…like us.'

'She's not a Pureblood, you mean.'

'Yes, love.'

'Alecto is a Pureblood and she hit me. Alise is kind, and she needs a friend.'

'I know, love, but we have a responsibility.'

'Why?'

'Because…it's complicated.'

'Aunt Cissy? Sometimes I think that I…I don't like what the Dark Lord teaches very much.'

Narcissa cradled the back of her niece's head. 'I know, darling. It's hard. But you've Yseult, isn't that right?'

'I don't like Yseult much, though.'

'She's very suitable. Perhaps you could help her as well.'

'Help her with what?'

Narcissa hadn't the faintest but she'd try. 'She could use some help with…well, she isn't very discreet, is she?'

'No.'

'It would be better for the other little girl as well. It will be harder, the older you get for a friendship like this to function.

Cutting things off now-'

'Aunt Narcissa, you want me to stop being Alise's friend?'

'I know it's hard, precious, I do.'

'Shan't.'

'Darling?'

'I won't do it.'

'Hermione, this isn't up for debate.'

'I know.'

Narcissa held her more closely, rocking a bit more. 'This isn't like you, Hermione.'

'Alise is my friend, Aunt Narcissa. I can't abandon her.'

Even as Hermione said it, she was nuzzling closer. Narcissa knew what the girl was doing; she was rebelling, but she wanted to be reassured that she was loved and cherished even as she did it.

Well, that was certainly true as well, but so was the first thing.

'Hermione Bellatrix, I am not happy with your attitude right now. You know better than be defiant with an adult.'

'Yes, Aunt Cissy.'

'What would your mother say?'

'She'd be even angrier.'

'Well, yes, but I think she'd tell you some things. What do you think she'd say?'

Hermione was getting stiff. 'Don't know.' The edge of fear was in her voice, getting deeper than rather less. Narcissa cupped her niece's cheek and murmured soothingly. Poor love, this was going to be so, so hard.

'She would tell that she loves you. All of us love you. But our family has beliefs, and you are not being respectful of them. And you certainly know better than to contradict your elders, don't you?'

'Yes.'

'What do we need to do about this right now?'

Hermione squirmed. 'Oh.'

'Yes. Unless you're willing to promise me right now that you won't be friends with this little girl anymore, than I have to punish you. I don't want to do that, Hermione. The idea of hurting you even a little bit is horrible to me. But if you keep this up, that has to happen, do you see?'

'Yes, Aunt Cissy.'

'Do you promise?'

'No, Aunt Cissy.'

Narcissa patted her niece lightly. 'Get your hairbrush, Hermione, I'm going to take you over my knee and smack you.'

Hermione obeyed at once, carefully shedding her shoes and jacket, and, after careful consideration, her skirt and blouse as well. She shimmied into her nightdress and came back with her brush, looking determined and nervous.

'Good girl, Hermione. Lie across my lap, please.'

Her niece handed the brush over and complied. She was shivering ever so slightly, and making very soft whimpers in her throat. Narcissa tucked the skirt of the nightdress well up and took down her knickerswithout a word, hating every second.

'Why are you being smacked, Hermione Bellatrix Lestrange?'

'I won't stop being Alise's friend, Aunt Cissy.'

'And you were what?'

'Contradictory? Is that the word?'

'Defiant would also be all right. Put your wrists back, darling, I don't want to swat your hands by mistake.' Narcissa Stuck both wrists to the small of her niece's back to make sure she couldn't try tocover her bottom with them. She gently draped her own leg over Hermione's to keep her kicking to a minimum and looked at the scene in front of her, wishing she could fix this.

'Is there anything you might like to say, sweetheart?'

'I'm sorry you're angry with me, but I won't stop being Alise's friend if I get a million smackings.'

'Oh, Hermione.'

Narcissa moved the brush closer, loathing that she had to do this, loathing the stubbornness her niece had inherited from Bellatrix but a touch proud as well. Hermione had chosen the more difficult course and stuck it out, even when faced with consequences she hated and feared.

If she and Lucius had raised Hermione, of course, this wouldn't seem so traumatic and awkward. They'd have played out this exact scene at least a hundred times, and things would have found a rhythm that would have stripped the alienness from things.

They hadn't, and waiting was cruel to her niece. Narcissa pressed her free hand over Hermione's wrists and raised the first swat made her niece gasp and stiffen, legs kicking. Hermione sniffled. 'Ouch! That hurts!'

Narcissa squeezed a little harder and kept going. It was going to hurt a great deal worse before things were finished, she thought sadly. Hermione took it stoically, at least thus far, inhaling and wriggling a bit with each smack but not begging off or wailing. Yet.

'Cry, darling. It's all right. Just let it all out and have a nice big cry. It's easier that way.'

Hermione didn't answer, just squirmed a bit more as Narcissa gave her firm, even strokes of the brush, determined to make the point but equally determined to make sure that Hermione understood that she was loved and wanted even now.

'It's all right, love. Shhh, shhh, just let those feelings out. It hurts, darling, I know it does. Just close your eyes and let the feelings take over for a little while.'

Hermione whimpered but didn't otherwise move. Narcissa stopped for a moment, resting the brush on the girl's reddening backside so she wouldn't think they were done.

'Is there some reason you don't feel safe crying right now, angel?'

Hermione whimpered a bit louder. 'Sorry.'

'No, shhh. I just think you'd feel all better if you let some of these feelings out. It's safe for you to do that. I promise it is.'

Narcissa patted her back lightly as she talked, trying to provoke an emotional reaction. Anything was better than this. There was no defiance in it, was the worst thing; defiance could be dealt with, butHermione seemed more hurt and afraid, and that was intolerable to her aunt.

'A-all right.'

'That's my girl. Just try to relax and don't think, and you'll feel all better very soon.'

Narcissa picked up the brush again and went to work, wishing Hermione would break down so she could stop and get the girl's promise that she'd stop being friends with the muggleborn.

She pressed down to keep her niece in place and started on her thighs and the sensitive place where Hermione sat. Hermione gasped, kicking, and finally, blessedly, started to cry.

'Good girl, Hermione. I am so proud.'

Hermione sobbed harder, squirming, trying instinctively to move away from the source of the pain. Narcissa tightened her grip and kept smacking, knowing that Hermione would stop fighting her when she'd truly had enough.

It took a long time. By then Hermione was protesting and crying out with every swat, feet going so quickly the motion was almost a blur. She went still, gasping with pain and Narcissa quickly put the brush behind herself so her niece wouldn't see it.

'Sweetheart, we're done. Shhh, shhhh, just cry it out, there's the good girl. Yes, shhh, I am so proud of how well you've done.'

Hermione hurt too much to answer. Narcissa stroked her damp hair and waited whilst the worse of the tears passed. When her niece was sniffling rather than sobbing, Narcissa put down her nightie and helped her up, immediately embracing her so they could cuddle.

'Shhh, shhh, shhh.'

Hermione didn't answer. She was in her own world, curling in on herself. Narcissa couldn't let that happen. She moved her niece so the girl couldn't curl up and then pressed her very firmly to her chest.

'Hermione, shhhhh. Aunt Cissy is right here, love, just close your eyes and relax.'

Hermione nodded once and did as she was told. She still didn't feel very relaxed to Narcissa, and she finally bent closer, crooning softly.

'Let's talk about this, sweetheart. All right?'

'N-no.'

'Why not?'

'Please?'

'Hermione, something is wrong, darling. We need to find out what it is so we can fix it.'

'Let's not. Please?'

Narcissa called for warm milk spiked with soothing syrup. 'Shhh, I'll hold it. Just take sips for me. That's good, isn't it? Sweet and warm and nice. There we go, just a bit more. Good, good.'

The little girl's muscles were relaxing, finally. Tears were leaking from her eyes and she had started to tremble slightly. Narcissa was more and more concerned.

'Why are you shaking, Hermione?'

'It's not better.'

'What's not?'

She had to prompt Hermione twice more before she got an answer. 'I see.'

Her niece was such a good, brave girl who wanted to please. That was what was killing Narcissa. Poor little thing.

'Do you really think that would be enough to make us not love you, Hermione?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Don't know.'

'Well it isn't. Not for anything in the whole world. We love you no matter what. Even on the naughtiest day of your life, we love you exactly the same as on the best day, do you know that?'

'I… do you promise?'

'Of course I do.'

Hermione still looked half-afraid. 'You won't leave me?'

'I promise that too.'

Narcissa rocked her a while, just letting her feel safe. Why was everything so hard with the child? It seemed like everything she touched was another trial. Surely they could find a way to soothe things a bit, somehow?

'Why don't we call your mother in?'

Hermione went rigid. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'

'No, shhhh. This isn't a punishment. She'd want to cuddle too, is all. Bellatrix loves you and wants to help you feel all better. That's all, shhhh. Shhhh.'

'No more hairbrush right now?'

'No hairbrush right now. We'll all pile into bed and have a nice cuddle, and then bedtime, how would that be?'

Hermione nodded carefully, clearly wary this was a trick of some kind. Narcissa sent an elf, still holding her niece tightly. Bellatrix came at once, looking nearly as on-edge as her daughter.

'Cissy?'

'Hermione is very tired, Trixie. We're going to get into bed and cuddle, all right?'

Bellatrix kicked off her shoes and lay against the wall. 'Come on then, girl.'

Hermione obeyed slowly, clearly sore and stiff. She rubbed gingerly as she crossed the room, climbed under the covers and lay uncomfortably next to her mother. Bellatrix awkwardly patted her arm.

'Go to sleep, girl.'

Narcissa joined them, snuggling close so the three were in proximity whether they would or not. 'Bellatrix, why don't you tell us a story?'

'A story?'

'You used to tell me stories, do you remember?'

'Of course I do but-'

'Hermione has never heard Rabbity-Babbity, I don't think.'

Bellatrix gave her a funny look but started the story. Hermione was still and silent between them, until Narcissa whispered for her to close her eyes and take deep breaths. Ever eager to oblige, she did, and finally, after a quarter of an hour, began to drift.

Narcissa told the next story, wanting Bellatrix to reach out to the girl somehow. Stroke her hair, rub her neck, give her kisses on the cheek, anything but lie there. Finally she caught her sister's eye andmimed that same idea, and Bellatrix, nodding slowly, began to gently curl Hermione's ringlets about her finger, humming off-key.

The change was immediate. Hermione's eyes opened. 'Mother?'

'Hmmm?'

'That's nice.'

'I'm glad.'

'I'm sorry I'm naughty.'

Before Bellatrix could answer, Narcissa stepped in. 'No one in our family thinks you're naughty, Hermione. We think sometimes you do naughty things, but you yourself are a very good girl and we know that.'

She relaxed, still looking at Bellatrix. 'Do you think that, Mother?'

'Yes.'

'Truly?'

'I've said it, haven't I?'

Hermione went still. 'Sorry.'

'Honestly, girl, you'd think I meant to eat you half the time. I'm not cross with you a bit.'

'Oh. All right.'

'What were you sorry about, anyhow?'

Hermione was inching closer to Narcissa, seeking protection even if she didn't know it herself. 'I was an accident. Wasn't I?'

'Who's told you that?'

'It's true. I take you from the Dark Lord and now I've made your job harder.'

'Where did you hear such rubbish, girl?'

Hermione was curling up again, a bit. 'Isn't it true?'

Bellatrix glowered until she saw that her daughter was getting smaller and more anxious with each second. 'Of course it isn't. We want you. We miss you.'

'You do?'

'Every day.'

Hermione very slowly let herself stretch out her limbs, like a flower unfurling. 'I wasn't an accident.'

'You were a surprise.'

'Would you have been happy?'

Bellatrix leant over and pecked the girl's forehead gently.

'Hush.'

Hermione actually moved a little closer to her. 'You don't mind that I'm taking up your time?'

'Course I don't.'

Narcissa nodded approval. Hermione was letting herself move ever-so-slightly closer to Bellatrix. 'Would you tell another story?'

She did. Hermione was asleep before it was half-way done.

In the downstairs parlour, the sisters drank wine before they discussed what had happened. 'She's got your stubbornness.'

'Oh?'

'She's quite determined to pursue her course in this.'

'Didn't you smack her?'

'Firmly. She is still determined.'

'What do we…how do I…?'

'As I see it, Bellatrix, you've two choices. You could do what Mother would have done and punish her until she agrees out of desperation for the pain to end. That's the first option.'

'You know I wouldn't!'

'I do know you wouldn't. The second option is, don't ask her about it ever again.'

'Cissy?'

'She won't stop, but if she feels safe with us she'll share, and we can guide her. In time, either the friendship will fade or they'll both be adults and things will be out of our hands. But I think-really and honestly-that forcing this issue is the worst thing we can do.'

'A mudblood, Cissy!'

'I know.'

'Andromeda-'

'Was eighteen and infatuated. Hermione is twelve and wants a friend she actually likes.'

Bellatrix sighed. 'Fine, you explain it to Rodolphus.'

'I will.'

'You really think this is the best way?'

'I think this is the only way. Because once she starts associating you with pain and fear, you will never overcome that association, ever. She might well obey but she would never really trust or feel safe with you.'

'You're dramatising, Cissy.'

'How did you feel with Mother?'

Bellatrix put her wine glass down. 'Point taken, Narcissa.'

'I think you should spend some time tomorrow, just the two of you.'

'Sounds a good idea.'

'Bellatrix, what's the matter?'

Bellatrix's face worked for a second. 'Had I known I was pregnant, I would have…I wouldn't have been happy.'

'Are you happy now?'

'About the girl? Suppose I am. She's…she tries, Cissy.'

'Yes, she does. She needs us to show her we're all right to love and trust.'

'Is it always this hard?'

For that, Narcissa had no answer.


End file.
